Help
by clair beaubien
Summary: After being bushwhacked, Vin goes to Chris' shack. Larabee tries to help him, but Tanner is a stubborn man.
1. Chapter 1

"Ain't pretty, I know."

"No it ain't" Larabee crouched in front of his friend. Vin Tanner - or what was left of him - sat in a chair with a thin towel pressed to a crack in his lip. Both eyes were black and purple, one completely swollen shut. The rest of his face – and probably the rest of his body – was covered with swelling bruises in vivid colors. The two men were at Larabee's' shack.

"Think I got blood on your floor, didn't mean to. Been waitin' on you awhile."

"Woulda been here sooner if I knew."

Chris pulled Vin's arm aside to have a better look at the bleeding. Vin had already taken off his hat.

"I know."

"Who was it?"

"Damn horse thieves. Bushwhacked me crossin' the wash." Vin shook the towel out with his left hand and crumpled it before pressing it against his mouth again. He kept his right hand in his lap. "Sorry about the mess."

Chris looked around the shack, but the only mess he could see was a spotted line of blood that had trailed Vin from the door.

"Did they get your horse?"

"Nope." Vin sounded proud. "He run off. Got more smarts than I do. Or more luck. They took off after him and I came here."

"He ran from the danger, he's got the smarts in my book." Chris said and stood up. "It'll take me a little while to get a travois together. We should get you in the bed to wait it out."

"I ain't a papoose and I don't reckon to be swaddled like one."

"There's no other way to get you to town."

"Who said I was going to town? Leave me holed up here a few days, I'll be fine. Just send my horse back to me when he shows up." Vin shook the towel out one handed again.

"What's the matter with that other arm?" Chris asked.

"Hurts. Like everything else."

"Let me see." Chris ran experienced hands along Vin's right arm. "Feels broken." He said.

Vin hadn't made a sound, but now his brief "_Yep_," came through clenched teeth.

"Anything _else_ you wanna tell me about?" Larabee asked, sounding annoyed.

"Sure – I gotta blister on my foot walking here from the wash."

"Anything _serious_?"

"No." Vin shook his head. "I held on this long, reckon I'll keep."

"All right. Won't move you then. It'll hurt less. Just sit tight 'til I get some boards for splints."

"Yeah."

Chris went out to the pile of scrap wood behind the shack. It took him a few minutes of digging to find a couple of pieces the right length. He carried them back inside, saying as he walked through the door:

"I'll give you some whiskey for the pain before I set the bone."

But as he said it, he saw that Vin had stood and put his broken arm through the slats on the back of the chair. The other hand held the chair steady and with one strong pull, and one loud snap, the bone was set.

Vin wavered a little on his feet, but otherwise made no sound.

_"What the hell are you doing?"_ Chris demanded.

"Straightenin' up the bone."

"You shoulda let me do that."

"Why?" Vin asked. He sounded genuinely confused.

"Because it hurts?"

"Never stopped me before." Vin carefully freed his arm from the slats and used his good hand to steady himself while he sat back into the chair. "Feels better now."

Chris shut the door behind himself and set the wood on the table.

"I bet it does. We'll need to get your coat and shirt off to put the splints on. You _will_ let me help you with that, won't you?"

"Well you're here. Might as well make yourself useful." Vin said, leaning forward to start shrugging his jacket off his left shoulder. Chris stared at him a minute and shook his head with disbelief that Tanner still wasn't waiting for him. "This won't keep while you sleep, you know." Vin said. Chris moved forward then and helped slide the coat over the broken arm. The shirt came next, revealing an arm swollen under the thin and dirty undershirt.

"You might get me that whiskey now." Vin's voice was thin and tight. "Reckon that last made it twinge a mite."

"Hold on, I'll get it for you." Chris walked to the table and poured a good cupful, bringing it back to Vin.

"Appreciate it." Vin said. His left hand shook though as he took the cup, and Chris put his own hand under Vin's to keep it steady. He took a few deep swallows without comment, even though Chris knew it had to sting his battered lip.

"Don't you ever feel pain?" Larabee had to ask.

"Do _you_?"

"Yeah, of course I do." Chris turned to set the cup back on the table. He thought about what Vin was saying. If he, Chris, was a wanted man, afraid not to keep one eye open all the time, would he feel pain? Pain would only make him vulnerable. "Maybe not, if I was in your shoes."

"If you were in _my_ shoes, you'd have yourself a blister." The one eye he could still see out of, Vin cast on the boards Chris had picked up. "Think we might parley here a minute? Give that whiskey a chance?"

"Sure." Chris set the wood back on the table. "I'll get some water, get you cleaned up." He filled the washbasin from the rain barrel outside, and found another towel. "I think this'll twinge a mite too."

"I can do it." Vin told him.

"You can't even see out of both eyes at once."

"You keep talking like I never took care of myself before. Who do you think ever took care of me when I was hurt on the trail? Been hurt worse than this and took care of it all on my own." Vin sounded more puzzled than irritated.

Chris soaked the towel in the water and wrung it out, and looked at Tanner. He'd suffered more than a mild beating. From the look of his face, he might've even been knocked cold. Broken arm. Maybe broken ribs. Having to walk in that condition nearly three miles from the wash to here. Then sitting here, alone, waiting until Chris came out at the time they'd originally planned to meet. He didn't want to imagine Vin hurt worse than this, and he sure didn't want to think about him having to hole up and heal all on his own.

"I'm here, I gotta keep busy, right?"

_"I can do it myself."_ Vin insisted and Chris handed him over the towel. He found an old sheet and tore it into strips to use to tie the splints while Vin began to swipe at the dried blood across his face.

"Don't open that lip up again."

"_Yes Nathan_." After a few swipes, Vin set the towel on his leg.

"Is that it?" Chris asked.

"Hurts."

"Here." Chris poured some more whiskey into the cup and brought it to Vin. "Let me hold it for you." he said, when the hand Vin raised shook even worse than it had before.

"I can hold my own cup." Vin said. So, like before, Vin held the cup, and Chris steadied his hand.

"I wish you would just take my help. You been hurt you know."

"I was takin' care of myself before you ever came along," Vin said after finishing the whiskey.

"And doing a damn fine job of it too."

"I meant before today."

Chris set the cup back on the table and took another long look at Vin.

"According to what you just told me, _before today_ you been hurt worse than you are now and never had anybody to help you take care of yourself."

"Yeah," Vin said, sounding like Chris was agreeing with him. Chris shook his head.

"You say it like it was a good thing."

"Only thing there was."

"And now?" Chris asked.

Vin shrugged. "You come in handy every now and then I reckon.."

"I'm touched." Chris picked the towel up, rinsed it and wrung it out again, and crouched down to take his own pass at Vin's battered, bloody face.

"Stop it will you?" Vin tried to block him with his good arm, and struggled to get out of the chair.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Bed, where do you think? You fill me up with whiskey, you don't think I'll want to lie down?" He swayed a little on his feet, and Chris caught him with a supporting arm and walked him the half dozen paces to the narrow bed.

"I can do it," Vin said, but this time didn't try to brush off the help. When he sat down on the mattress, he sucked in a sharp breath of air.

"Look at me," Chris said. He repeated, "Look up at me," when Vin didn't.

Vin saw what he had in mind, sighed in resignation, and shut his good eye. Chris refolded the towel for a clean side and washed the blood off of Vin's face. When he was done and stepped back, Vin opened his eye again.

"You gonna wash my hands for me too, Mama?"

"Ha ha. The whiskey seems to be working, you let me splint that arm now?"

"Yeah."

In a quarter of an hour, Chris had the splint on and was tying the last knot.

"How're you doing?" He asked Vin.

"I'm tired."

"All right then, let me get you laying down."

_"I can -" _

"Yes I know," Chris interrupted.

_" - do it myself." _

It didn't take very long after Vin was lying down for him to fall asleep. Chris pulled off his boots and socks, and used the towel to wash the red, oozing blister under his left big toe. When that was done, he spread the blanket over his sleeping friend.

At least he _thought_ Vin was sleeping.

"Thanks for the help Chris."

"Anytime, Vin."

The End


	2. Helpless

"_I ain't helpless." _

"I can see that." Chris watched with no small amount of impatience as Vin attempted to get his socks and boots back on one-handed. It'd only been a few hours since Chris found Vin, broken, battered, and bleeding here at his shack. After sleeping just those few hours, Tanner was getting himself dressed to go outside and use the privy. He was still black and blue and moving like an old man.

"You act like I never dressed myself before." Vin said.

"Have you dressed yourself with a broken arm before?"

"No." Vin said with some contempt. "Last time I broke my arm, I had the good sense to _keep_ ny boots on." He managed to get his socks and boots on without much fussing. Chris figured he'd stop there and go out in his undershirt and his arm in the makeshift sling. But Vin slid his good arm into the sleeve of his jacket and pulled it around behind his neck until it was over his right shoulder. Okay, Chris thought, so maybe he's cold. But then Vin set his hat on his head and picked up his mare's leg.

"Vin, you're only going to privy. You're outfitting yourself like you're hitting the trail."

"Never know when something might happen." Vin said it straightforward. "Got to be ready."

"You're walking twenty feet behind the house and I'm right here. What could happen?"

"You never know what might happen." Vin said again. His left eye had hardly begun to open on its own.

"And if something _does_ happen, you're half blind and one-armed."

"_I ain't helpless." _

"I'd believe you a lot quicker Vin if you weren't all over violet and swelled up." Chris said. "Leastways we can figure you got no broken ribs the way you pulled your jacket on." Vin didn't say anything and Chris pressed him. "Maybe you'll want to answer that one?"

After some consideration, Vin allowed "Might be a couple of my ribs ain't so sound as they were this morning."

"So, you're half blind, one-armed, _and_ you got broken ribs."

"I'm standing on my own two feet, ain't I?"

"You're so unsteady, Nettie could knock you down."

But this didn't impress Vin. "I reckon if you rile her enough, Nettie could knock anybody down."

"Damn ornery cuss." Chris growled.

"Damn ornery cuss standing on my own two feet." Vin said. "Now you getting out of my way or am I going to have to move you?"

For a brief moment Chris thought about making Vin push past him, but he didn't figure it was worth any extra hurt it might cause Vin. With another growl, he stepped aside and watched Vin walk to the doorway, then across the porch and around back to the privy. He moved stiffly, guarding his ribs and his arm, probably needing to correct for having only the one good eye to see out of. Chris thought about following him, or at least standing where he could keep watch, but instead he decided to get some food together and at least make sure that Tanner had enough to eat.

After a little while, Vin came back into the shack. He set his gun down and took off his hat. Chris was about to tell him to pull up a chair and have some supper when Vin sat down on the bed. He ran his hand through his hair and then rested his head in his hand.

"You feel all right?" Chris asked.

"Hunh?" Vin looked up at him.

"You feeling all right?"

"Yeah. Tired. You making supper? Something smells good." Vin pushed his jacket off his shoulder and try to shrug it off his good arm. Chris stepped forward and pulled it off. "I ain't helpless." Vin said.

"And neither am I." Chris told him. "Let me get you some more whiskey, it must've wore off by now."

"Nah, I don't want any more of that. I'm okay without it."

"It'll dull the pain."

"It'll dull my wits more's the point." Vin said. "Can't have that. Just let me eat something and get set for the night. I know you got to get back to town."

Chris was surprised. "I do?"

"Don't you?" Vin seemed confused. "We weren't planning staying here the night 'fore this happened."

"Plans change. I'm not leaving you here one-eyed, one-armed, and with broken ribs." He saw Vin start to say something and he tried to cut him off. "Don't even_ –_"

"_I ain't -." _

" – say it."

" – _helpless." _

Chris gave him a glare of exasperation. "You don't need to be helpless to need help, Vin." He thought for a minute that Vin was going to dispute him. "Sometimes you don't even need to _need_ help to _take_ help."

Vin watched him a bit, like he was taking the measure of Larabee's words. "Maybe in your world." There was that gulf of difference again, between them. Chris could feel it.

"Look around you, Vin, you're _in_ my world now." He waited a few seconds, giving Vin a chance to argue, but no argument came. "So, do you think you can sit at the table to eat?"

The answer was a very softly spoken "_Yeah_," and Vin pushed himself to his feet.

Chris stood by but didn't offer the help he desperately wanted to give. Halfway to the table, Vin put his hand out as though having to feel his way, and he sat himself in the chair a little heavily. Chris figured that had to hurt, and he poured another cup of whiskey without asking Vin's say-so, and he set it in front of Vin without saying anything.

At first, Vin didn't touch the cup, he let it sit there and Chris wondered if he'd have to force the issue with him. Finally though, Vin picked it up and began to drink it, and Chris turned back to getting supper served up.

They were both quiet as Chris set the plates on the table, and poured himself some whiskey. He watched as Vin set his cup down, and picked up his fork in the wrong hand. He gripped it awkwardly in his fist and began to eat.

"Chris?" Vin asked after awhile.

"Yeah?"

"You know how if you find somebody who's been lost out in the desert with no water, even if he's dying of thirst, you only give him a little water at a time or else it makes him sick?"

"Yeah, I know." Chris didn't have to have a lot of brains to figure out where this was headed.

"Even if he ain't had water in so long he can't remember the taste of it, you can't give him too much at once."

"Vin – you ain't dying of thirst."

"Maybe not, but you're trying to give me too much of something I can't remember the taste of. I ain't been coddled since I don't when."

"Coddled?" Chris would've laughed, if he didn't know Vin was so serious. "I don't call setting your own arm, and ignoring broken ribs coddling. I don't even call giving you some whiskey and letting you sleep _coddling_."

"You washed my foot for me."

"You're hurt." Chris pointed out.

"I been hurt before. I don't think even Nathan ever washed my foot for me."

"And that probably isn't because he didn't _try_."

Vin didn't answer that one.

"I just mean – if you meet a fella who's got no water and you offer him a sip from your canteen – well, if all he takes is a sip and he hands it back to you, then if he ever needs water again, you ain't afraid to offer him some. But if he takes the canteen and drinks all your water and doesn't leave you any and he only wants more, you ain't ever going to offer him water again. You see? You know what I mean? Even if I was dying of thirst, you _shouldn't_ offer me any water." Vin was still deadly serious.

"This is water I won't run out of Vin." Chris answered him just as seriously.

"You got no idea how much I need."

"And you've got no idea how much I've _got_." Chris waited, giving Vin another chance to argue with him. Another chance that Vin didn't take. "I've _been_ that man dying of thirst Vin. I know enough to offer you as much 'water' as you'll take. And I know that it _won't_ hurt you to take a little more than you think you want."

Vin stared at Chris, almost glared at him. It was hard to tell with all the bruises and his one eye still barely open, but Chris thought Vin might've even been getting choked up.

"Do whatever you want then." He said to Chris. "Don't blame me if you run out."

Chris took that for the surrender he wanted it to be. "All right then."

They went back to eating their supper. Vin's left hand shook, not used to holding a fork, and after taking a bite of food, it slipped out of his grasp and clattered onto the floor. Chris reached down for the fork at the same time Vin did. Tanner growled.

"_I ain't -." _

"Don't say it."

" _- helpless." _

The End


End file.
